Folding Cards
by Ivory Rouge
Summary: The Queen of Club is fighting in her country's revolution in the hopes to dethrone the current oppressive monarchy and give the selected Face Cards the crown. Herself among them. But the Rebellion's army is losing. The Black Joker offers her a power to turn the tides, but the price is her sanity. Cardverse AU. Oneshot. Implied PruHun. Rated: T


**Folding Cards**

A box sat on the vanity in the Queen's bedroom. A note attached to the top was written in a familiar scrawl that sent shivers racing down her spine. Fear sank its cold poisonous teeth into her as her eyes continued to bore into the script. Stitches of icy hot terror felt as if they were being laced into her skin from the paling of her face to the curling of her toes and clenching of her fists.

Gifts from people like the Joker were not to be paid any attention. You left them alone or you got rid of them.

Preferably the latter.

 _Oh, my dear Queen of Club,_

 _I do hope you choose to accept my gift to you._

 _This power will be useful to you. Ask if you need more._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Your Bestest Friend_

It would sit there forever. The Queen of clubs refused to ever open it, to ever look at it in consideration. Nothing good ever came of using the power of a Joker.

Especially the one fated to be stuck in the shadowed demons of Black magic.

 **XxX**

The Queen and King's army was struggling. They had no reinforcements and their equipment was mediocre and worn out from the year of fighting. But the Queen would rather be decimated than use any means the Black Joker would offer, _**could**_ offer.

 **XxX**

20,000 troops later and her resolve began to crack with the tiniest of fractures.

* * *

Six months of continuous battle had met The Queen once she had left her home to lead her faction of the army. She was already exhausted.

 **XxX**

The sides of the tent flapped in the freezing autumn wind, letting in a draft that ruined the warmth the small fire emitted. The Green Royalty dropped her pack onto the chair and fell into a meditating worship of the flame's slight heat. Her armor clanked and the leather straps creaked, the ice encrusting the metal began to melt into a chilled puddle at her legs. The winter had been an average one, but the Country of Club always had the bitterest colds.

She reached to take off her helmet and let down her hair from its suffocating perch from on top of her head. Throwing her head from side to side, the wavy brown tresses formerly compressed under her griffin shaped head piece fell to the ground. The longest strands gently brushed against the bear skin rug that made up the floor and the tips disappeared into the soft fur.

Tossing the delicately crafted metal aside, her gaze fell upon her death-wished gift. The box was still in her possession and as unwanted as before. The cherry wood was polished red and engraved with swirls of fire-singed black and opal. It was plain and simple and latched with a brass lock. Truly a beautiful piece, but its elegant majesty didn't change her feelings about it.

Fear was the feeling that itched at her skin and blew against her ear every time she looked upon or thought of the thing. It didn't help that, sometimes, during the night, when silence was the only thing to be heard and only the palest glow of the moon and the wheezes of the dying embers lit the black, it would shake and rattle and something from within it would hiss and spit and scratch and snarl, trying to get out.

After the first time it made its liveliness known, she took to covering it with one of the pelts to dampen its noises and movements. But it still seemed louder than the roaring of a great dragon right next to her ear. It was the only sound that rivaled the volume of her own pounding heart.

 **XxX**

The Queen of Club heard it again that night. She held her eyes open and her body stiff, her muscles forced tauter than the drawn string of her bow. Sleep did not come to her that night, and the fear was kept creeping in the back of her mind.

The box hadn't made a single sound.

* * *

At the beginning of spring, when the grass had begun to grow and the snow had melted as much as it would, the war waged on.

The green that had started to cover the earth again was obliterated by the metal clad feet of tens of thousands of cards on opposing sides and the stamping and ripping of hooves and claws and talons. The corpses of those they had had to leave behind concealed the appearance of actual ground in the places where battle had taken place throughout the land. Red washed over the lands of Club to resemble the barbaric wasteland the other Suits thought it to be.

The squish and snap of boots and hooves on the dead became a natural sound that no one noticed anymore.

 **XxX**

The Ice Queen looked like one of the corpses that littered the ground. Purple bruise decorated the under of her eyes and the paleness of her skin had been reinforced to make her appear sickly and almost vampiric. The green of her gaze was conflicted and haunted, her stares looking farther than a thousand yards.

It was easy to mistake her distress as a side effect of the war, but her Jack knew better. His Queen would never be beaten by the horrors of battle. No. This had to be so much more. But she would not speak of it to him.

She had become a victim of a haunting of the past and the subtle manipulation of of well cast Black magic. Glimpses of silver hair so pale it blended with the snow and eyes as red as garnet flickered behind her lids. A voice that hadn't spoken since he died purred out the words of the note that had come with her gifted box. The whispered tones echoed in her ears and forced itself to be heard even amongst all her other racing thoughts. She could see the words forming on those pale lips and see the way that that long face would stretch into that smirk. He would twist his face so just to drive her mad with the contempt that he would feel at her powerless position.

You're only a Queen in this world if you have a throne and a crown and a palace to call home. She only had a shack on the other side of the largest set of mountains and a horse that was getting far too old for these kinds of battles and extensive march.

The box still sat in her saddle bag.

And the note gathered dust in the drafty room of her home.

* * *

Two months later and the situation was beyond desperate. They needed something, anything, to turn the tides. They had severely underestimated how many people still fought for this country's royalty, and how little that royalty cared about them.

The opposing Face Cards were just throwing their Cards at them now. They were just wearing them down with attacks that could last for days, the smaller of which could happen four times a week. The Rebellion was losing Cads faster than they had ever thought possible.

The Queen wrote to her King about the box and the possible power that laid within it.

He ordered her to use it.

So she did.

 **XxX**

The writhing, coiling, slithering snake of black scales and dark smoked hissed at the clicking of the lock and lifting of the lid. Without her having to move, it raised itself from the confining wood and wound its way up her arm. The thick padding of her many sleeves prevented the feeling of the smooth scales, but the tightening of its muscles and sliding of its flesh was still fearfully obvious. Its mouth opened and its fangs glinted like deadly swords of poisoned bone.

Her tired, nephrite-green eyes widened with the consuming dread of the creature.

It struck faster than she ever thought possible.

* * *

The Ice Queen didn't know what happened after that. Everything became a head-pounding, panic inducing blur.

The Jack of Club told her it had been three months since their King replied. She was glad for the updates her Jack gave her, but she always found his reports unbelieveable.

For the times that she was conscious her muscles would ache and she was covered in crusting blood. She was sure the stains would never come out. The soldiers would only come near her if absolutely necessary now. That gave away just how terrifying she must be during the fights. her Jack was the only one she had interactions with anymore.

 **XxX**

Her horse had died under the extra strain of the new magic.

The new stallion the Queen had acquired was fierce, uncooperative, muscular, and sleek. She was lucky he listened to her more than anyone else, though the attitude with which he did was always apparent.

He was a dark cherry bay with a white patch over his heart. It looked like an old scar in its starburst pattern and light shape and size would suggest a spear or lance, if that is what truly happened.

The unnatural intelligence of his eyes combined with the odd scar and his manner of act led the Club to believe that he was not alive. And even if he was living, then he **_must_** have died before becoming her steed. everytime she looked at him her eyes would flicker to that tan-white piece of his coat and wonder how else the beast would end up with such an unusual discoloration in such a defining place and shape.

She named him Guta after the cards began to call him such. It seemed fitting as the name of one of the demonic spirits native to the country.

He came when she called him now.

* * *

Over the course of the four months that the Queen had been using the power, the Rebellion had started to slowly push the Royalists back. They were regaining ground.

 **XxX**

The Queen's mind began to break as the wall separating the memories of battle began to crack. The horrors of the bloody fights began to seep into her conscious. Every sleep she had was either filled with terror and torturous deaths or a brain dead slumber that was the result of her overexerted body blacking out. Neither gave her the rest she needed to regain control over her bloodlust.

 _I see that you opened my gift._

 _I haven't seen you fight like that since you killed me._

 _Guta is the only name you could have given that creature._

 _Good luck on your throne,_

 _Boldogasszony_ _Szépassony Hadúr_

 _-Lots of Love_

 _Your First Casualty_

Newly named Queen Hadúr dreamed of killing the Black Joker that night. This time she relished in the details.

* * *

Seven months later and the tides had turned. The only thing left to take was the Capitol and its tiny surrounding area of forest with small farm houses and dead fields. But those were practically theirs. The city walls were where their military power really ended.

 **XxX**

They overtook the city within two weeks of appearing at its gates and three days of battle.

Arriving in the throne room was like breathing the first breath of air after being choked.

 **XxX**

All of the new Face Cards looked terrifying. Standing before the thrones that held the people responsible for the destruction of their country, they stood stoically with raging glares on their faces and in their eyes. They were all covered in blood and out for more. Even Koliada, the gentlest woman to walk the Earth, was wanton for the Royals' flesh.

Barely any of this was registered in Queen Hadúr's mind. The only thoughts she had were to kill the people before her. To make them atone for the atrocities they had committed against her people and the world. To deliver a punishment fit for the sins they had become.

Her sword was covered with blood that pooled onto the floor with a rhythmic drip, drip, dropping. The bow hung across her front was seemingly untouched, but the arrows in her quiver were dipped in garnet and shreds of muscle clung to some of the metal-tipped bone.

With her armor bathed and stained in a deep crimson like wine, and her hair matted from the fight, she truly looked worthy of the name of the War God she had been given.

With murder in her eyes she stood above those who begged on their knees, groveling for their lives and own safety like the lowly scum they were. Their worth in this world was lower than the dirt that clung to the bottom of her boot.

 _" No mercy, Szépassony._

 _Cut their heads from their necks_

 _With just as little remorse you held when you stabbed **ME.**_

 _Become the Queen that conquered her world,_

 _Hadúr._

 _I'll watch you from the shadows,_

 _Dear."_

The Queen of Club raised the cleaver of her sword and rid the kneeling bodies of their necks and freed their shoulders of their heads as the words came to her over the breeze. That little push was all she needed to justify the slaughter with herself.

 **XxX**

The Ice Queen was the only one to not see the insanity rushing through her veins. The Black magic wrapping around her body in tendrils took the form of curling black tattoos. They took over everything they touched and forced submission on their wielder, like poison that seeps through your skin and intoxicates your brain through your blood.

She wielded her sword with glee and wore her blood-soaked armor like a flag of prideful victory.

* * *

Three months after the liberation of the Capitol and the kingdom was running well for the first time in over sixty years.

The rebuilding of the lost buildings and land was going well. And the people were as happy as they could be in the aftermath of a war and the constant ice of the Club country.

 **XxX**

Hadúr was doing well as Queen, but her mind was unraveling.

She had been unaware of how reliant she had become on the power that had been supplied to her. It had begun to be processed with the rest of the necessities her body took in. The magic had overrun her brain and taken possession of her thoughts and actions. It wasn't as strong as before. It didn't trample down anything but its own needs like it used to. But it shoved anything that tried to be rational into the back of her mind and pressed against her thoughts and movements and emotions with vigor.

Staring at the ceiling at night the Queen would try to gain control over the inky blackness poisoning her thoughts. Her fists would grip tight and she would restrain herself from slaying all those who slept. Her price to pay, her punishment, for using the Black Joker's power was this torture. The sentence of being aware of your own brutality and psychotic need while being able to do nothing more than hold it at bay. Barely.

It had reached the point where she would lock herself in some empty room and dig her nails into the flesh of her limbs to keep her hands from latching onto something to kill with. Every night while she sat in the bath she would wonder what it would be like to swim, and then what it would be like to drown.

All the mirrors she looked into showed her a face that she did not wish to see. They all ended up in shards after the tears began to fall. She was not weak and therefore would not cry like a child who could withstand nothing more than a slap on the wrist.

The people of the castle began to notice the hints of sickness plaguing her mind and whispered as she passed.

She wished for death, and did not care if it was theirs or her own.

* * *

It was not long before the Joker noticed the Queen's crumbling state of sanity and came for her.

The heavy forest-green drapery over the windows parted as his black-clad figure dropped from the window sill. There wasn't a sound as he moved across the carpet with the grace and poise of a predator staling its prey. His blood eyes glinting as he gazed down at her paled face.

A gentle blow of breath awoke her from her nightmares. Hands gripping his throat, her green eyes glared into his red. Her grip tightened for a second before the Black magic subsided enough for the Queen to release him.

Standing up from the bed she faced him. Blankness on her face and curious certainty in her heart.

" You did this to me." The anger not shown on her face made known by the tone of her voice.

He nodded with that blood curdling smirk twisted onto his face. The only difference between him now and when they were children the obvious age he had gained. The expression his face gave was almost the exact one he wore when she had run him through with her sword.

" What can I say? I missed my little Hadúrian Szépassony."

The words grew stale and cold hanging the air as a smirk slowly stretched its way across her face to mirror even the finite creases that gave his its toppling twistedness.

She had been desperately missing him and despairing in the regret of his death.

 **XxX**

 _The Queen of Club was insane,_

 _but it would remain her and her Joker's little secret._

* * *

 **Notes**

 **The Queen of Club -** The Ice Queen, Hadúr, Szépassony, Boldogasszony, The Green Royalty

 **Hadúr -** Short for Hadak Ura, meaning "Warlord" or "Master of Armies". Hungarian God of War and smith of the old Hungarian Gods. Copper is his sacred metal.

 **Boldogasszony -** Her name means "Blessed Lady" or "Bountiful Queen". She was the goddess of motherhood and helped women in childbirth. After Christianization she was a parallel to the Virgin Mary. She is also considered the "Queen (Regina) of Hungary".

 **Szépassony -** Meaning "Fair Lady". She is a female demon with long hair and a white dress. She dances in storms and seduces young men.

 **Guta -** A fearsome Hungarian demon that beats his victims to death. Also associated with strokes, heart attacks, and sudden paralysis.

 **Koliada -** Slavic Goddess of the Sky. Responsible for the sunrise.

 **The Rebellion -** Queen Hadúr's army. They are fighting against the current oppressive royalty for control of the country.

 **The Royalists -** The people loyal to the current Club royalty.

 **Cards -** Citizens of the four countries/suits. Is used to name the soldiers.

 **Face Cards -** A term for the royalty of one of the suits/countries.

 **Featured Characters**

 **Hungary/Elizabéta Héderváry -** The Queen of Club

 **Prussia/Gilbert** **Beilschmidt -** The Black Joker

 **Austria/Roderich Edelstein -** The Jack of Club

 **Russia/Ivan Braginski -** The King of Club

 **Ukraine/Katyusha Braginskaya -** Koliada/The 10 of Club

 **Belarus/Natalya Arlovskaya -** The 9 of Club (mentioned as Face Card)

 **Romania/Vladimir Popescu -** The Ace of Club (mentioned as Face Card) Featured Characters

 **All Hetalia Characters are apart of the Rebellion.**

 **I do not own any of the listed characters.**

 **Please leave a review! I live for them.**


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